WAAHH… WAAHH… WAAHH

He ran, white lab coat dancing beneath him. Each footfall smacked the tiled floor, echoing through sterile, white-lit corridors.

Clutching his backpack, he skidded to a halt before a set of locked doors labelled: 

LAB 068: Dr. Tetsuro Takahashi. 

Clumsily fishing out a light blue keycard from the backpack, he swiped the receiver. It blinked once, then offered an innocent:

BEEP.

The hiss of the hydraulics was both a blessing and a curse. 

One: he was that much closer to his goal.

Two: it was taking too goddamn long.

The man was right. He could hear them now. At least four — no six — pairs of boots hammering the floor behind him. He was out of time.

In perfect cliché fashion, just as the first of the soldiers – clad in black tactical gear, midnight masks, rifles raised – peeled around the corner, the door swung open: 

“Welcome, Dr. Takahashi.” An artificial voice welcomed.

“Give it a rest, M.E.L.I.N.D.A. Not exactly the best time.” Dr. Takahashi barked back, slipping through the doors, swiftly locking them behind him.

He entered a room just as soulless as the corridor – pristine white walls, chalky tiled floors, and the cold buzz of fluorescent lights. Silent… save for the stainless steel console standing atop a raised platform in the center.

Takashi bolted towards it, yanked a different card from his bag – this one black – and slid it into the terminal.

…

“Contingency Protocol 18-65 confirmed, Dr. Takahashi, uploadi–” 

“No M.E.L.I.N.D.A, there isn’t any time! Just take one.” 

“As you wish, doctor.”

The console flared to life, radiating a brilliant blue hue. 

Beep. Boop. Beep. Boop.

Dr. Takahashi was in his element, typing away onto the console – when the intercom crackled to life. 

“Stop these games Takahashi. Open the door.” 

“I don’t really feel like it today. Just not in the mood,” Dr. Takahashi retorted just before slamming the EXECUTE key. The console chirped in acknowledgement, and he dropped to one knee, catching his breath.

INITIALIZING…

“We will get this door open,” the voice snapped. Takahashi watched on-screen as the security cam showed the soldiers strapping a charge to the entrance. “One way or another.”

Upload at 24%

“No thanks, and to be honest?” He smirked. “I’m done talking to you. M.E.L.I.N.D.A, cuss him out everytime he tries to talk to me.”

Upload at 47%

“There’s no need some sort of hero–”

“Fuck you,” M.E.L.I.N.D.A responded.

Upload at 65%

“Fine, just know after this I’m–”

“Fuck you, 2.0,” M.E.L.I.N.D.A added.

Upload at 82%

“Alright fine I’m sorry,” Takahashi mocked. “M.E.L.I.N.D.A, turn off–”

BANG!

The doors flung open. The shockwave knocked him off his feet to the floor. Six soldiers stormed the room, rifles raised, all trained on him. Behind them, a man in a crisp suit – leopard print tie bold against his collar – stepped inside. Calm, confident, and wearing his arrogance on his shoulder.

He ignored Takahashi and went straight for the console.

Upload at 91%

“You were close, Takahashi. Very close. Just not close enou–”

“M.E.L.I.N.D.A override function – upload now!” Dr. Takahashi yelled. 

“Affirmative, Doctor.”

…

Partial upload complete on April 7th, 6:38 PM local time!

The man in the suit’s smile vanished.

“I expected better.” 

Then Takahashi’s world went dark.